


what am I doing wrong?

by angelheartbeat



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Adoption, Adoptive family, Familial Issues, Self-Doubt, adoption au, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12189663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheartbeat/pseuds/angelheartbeat
Summary: Its been six months, and David thought they were happy, that things were going well.Its been six months, and David still has no idea what he's supposed to do.Or what he's doing wrong.





	what am I doing wrong?

Six months.

It had been six months, and David believed they were happy. Max was settling into school well - several weeks had gone by without any incidents or calls from the school - and his grades were high, he wasn't  _communicative_ persay, but he certainly wasn't permanently cold, he no longer flinched at  _every_ slight movement David made. He didnt appear to have any friends at school, but he called Nikki and/or Neil after school every single day, and things seemed to be happy.

Well. That's what he liked to believe.

Deep down, he had his doubts. He was meant to be a summer camp counselor, not a full-time father. Max didnt seem truly happy. But he was doing everything he could, and he had incorporated the reassurance of that into his smile exercises, and he was doing okay.

They were in the car on the way back from Max's school. Max had seemed... somewhat upset, when David picked him up, but the redhead had brushed it off as simple after-school blues, especially as the most obnoxious, explicit, blasphemous, curse-filled rap music Max could possibly find was blaring out through Davids speakers, and still David had the smile on his face and was tapping along, pretending like he didnt hear the women's objectification and extremely explicit swearing. At this point he had all but given up on restraining Max from swearing, and it was clear that he already had quite the repertoire of curses, so what harm could the music do?

"So, tell me all about your day, Max!" David said brightly as they climbed out of the car, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. Max shrugged and mumbled something unintelligible.

David swallowed down his concern as much as he could, but it spilled out anyway. "Did anything go wrong? Do I need to go in there and give any bullies a good telling off?"

"For fucks sake, of course not," Max grumbled, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly, something that didnt escape Davids attention. He smiled nervously and cleared his throat.

"Remember you can come to me about anything, yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Anything, Max. Anything at all."

"I heard you the first time."

"I'm just trying to-"

"Oh my  _fucking God,_ SHUT UP ALREADY!"

Both of them fell silent. Max finished kicking off his shoes and tore off his backpack, tossing it across the hall with little regard for the contents, while David hovered awkwardly, tears pricking his eyes. Their eyes met.

"You're not my fucking dad, stop acting like it." Max said coldly, without so much as a quiver in his voice, but his hands were trembling wildly. David tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. You could break the tension with a spoon, and then Max stormed upstairs, leaving David in the hallway to try and process his outburst.

He distracted himself until dinner - told himself that Max was busy with homework, was talking to his friends, that it was just a normal day - but when he called Max down for dinner and the boy didnt answer, it came flooding back. The anxiety kept building as he climbed the stairs, knocked on Max's door, and opened it.

Max was huddled on his bed, clutching Mr Honeynuts. He didnt look up as David entered.

"I brought you dinner," David said awkwardly, placing the plate on Max's bedside table. "Try and eat something."

"Fuck off," was Max's weak reply, and it felt like a stab to the gut. Everything had been okay that morning. What had happened? 

As he ate dinner alone, it was a struggle to convince himself everything was okay. Six months earlier, he would think nothing of being sat alone at his kitchen table, eating. But now, it had all changed, and to be sat alone was unnatural, unusual, and it made him uneasy. He was resolutely not trying to think about why Max suddenly appeared to hate him.

It was when it came time to take his meds did he finally break down, if only in the tiniest of ways. He swallowed them dry, something he would usually never do, too tired to reach for the water glass he kept by the sink, and stared at his reflection.

"What am I doing wrong?" he wondered out loud. The mirror image didn't respond, remaining silent and staring right back at him. The bags under his eyes were so much more prominent than they had been six months beforehand, his insomnia having worsened.

He wished the reflection would talk back, but it just stared, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Max had to have had a particularly bad day. Perhaps he'd feel more talkative in the morning.

Yes, thats what he'd do. Get some rest, clear his head, and sit down with Max to talk it out in the morning. 

With a goal in mind, David turned the tap and splashed his face to clear his mind, sighing and ending up staring at his reflection once again, now dripping slightly with cold water. The tap kept running.

Tears built up in his eyes and he swallowed, swiping them away with wet hands and reaching for a towel to dry his face off. His arms felt heavy, stiff, and it took a lot of effort to switch off the tap.

What was he doing wrong?

He hoped Max was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i might do a part 2 bc this is only like half of my original plan, but on the other hand im sick and feel like death so its a maybe
> 
> anyway yeet this was trash lol punch me in the face and tell me to write more


End file.
